I'm Not Broken
by 10thwhovian
Summary: In 1991, a single Hogwarts acceptance letter sat on Minerva McGonagall's desk with no address. Harry Potter, Location Unknown. Five years later, he is finally found. But he's not what the world had hoped for. Eventual SS/HP, D/s relationship, warnings inside.
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter or any of the characters, much as I wish I did.**

 **Warnings: This is a plot bunny that has been bouncing around in my head for a while. It is not a nice fic, especially at the beginning. Trigger warnings for rape, severe emotional distress, underage relationships... This will eventually be a SS/HP fic, so there will be slash, and there will be D/s relationships. Anyways, you've been warned.**

 **Chapter 1**

Severus Snape had just sat down in front of his fireplace at Spinner's End, looking forward to a glass of Firewhiskey and a good book. It was the middle of July, the summer holiday was half gone, but this was the first moment he'd had to appreciate some peace and quiet. Between Death Eater meetings, raids, Order meetings, and brewing for both sides, his summer had been far from relaxing. And he didn't expect the rest of the summer to be any better.

He settled into his wingback chair with a sigh, cracking open his book. But before he'd finished the first page, a silver phoenix Patronus burst into the room, hovering in front of him.

"Severus!" The phoenix called in Dumbledore's voice. "We need you in the hospital wing. We've found him!"

Message delivered, the Patronus faded into mist. Severus stared, frozen in disbelief. They'd found him? After five years of searching, they'd found him?

Realising he was still gaping at the empty air where the phoenix had been, Severus leapt to his feet, summoning his emergency potions kit. Poppy kept the hospital wing well stocked, but it didn't hurt to be prepared. Grabbing a handful of Floo powder, he threw it into his fireplace, calling out, "Hogwarts, Hospital Wing!" and stepping through.

There was a mass of people, Order members from the looks of it, milling around the front room. He could hear Poppy barking orders and had to snap out a few unpleasantries himself before the crowd parted to let him through. He spotted Dumbledore standing by a bed at the back of the wing, but everything else was obscured by a curtain.

Dumbledore glanced away from the bed as Severus approached, worry plain on his face. "Severus, good, Poppy says there's a curse, a very dark spell. We haven't been able to identify it…" His voice trailed off as his eyes slid back to the bed. Severus steeled himself as he took another step forward, reaching out a hand and pulling the curtain back.

The boy was obviously unconscious, lying still as death in the centre of the hospital bed. His pale skin contrasted harshly with the jet black hair that fanned across the pillow. He was covered in scrapes, bruises, and lacerations, and Poppy was hovering over him with salves and dittany. The once white sheets were stained with blood, too much blood. But his eyes were quickly drawn to the ugly blackened wound on the boy's chest, just below his right collarbone. He could feel the dark magic seeping off of him, like a taint in the very air. Severus grimaced, stepping quickly to the bedside.

"How long?" He asked, tracing his wand in a complicated pattern above the boy's chest.

"Mundungus found him less than an hour ago, but we don't know how long ago he was attacked," Poppy replied.

Severus gave a quick nod and continued to work, pulling the magic out of the wound. A black tar-like substance began to seep out, rolling down his side to pool on the sheets. Slowly, the black began to turn red, flowing more freely.

"Blood replenishers?" Severus asked, eyes never leaving his work.

"I've given him two already."

"He'll need another when I'm done, and every three hours for the next two days." Blood had begun to poor out of the now visible laceration, but Severus continued to draw it out until, finally, the last of the black stains were gone. Severus lowered his wand as Poppy spelled the blood replenisher into the boy's system. He ran a final scan, making sure he hadn't missed any traces of the curse, and let out a small sigh when the boy's blood came back clean. He nodded to Poppy, and she closed the now clean gash on his chest. It would leave a scar. A quick glance down the boy's body made Severus cringe. Not his first scar, perhaps not even his worst.

With that thought, Severus reached a hand up to brush the sweat soaked hair off the boy's forehead. No, definitely not his first scar. Because there it was, the unmistakable lightning bolt, the scar left by the failed killing curse.


	2. Chapter 2

**Disclaimer: The idea may be mine, but the characters are not.**

 **Chapter 2**

Severus stepped away from the bed, leaving Poppy to finish her work. His mind was rolling with questions, and he would have answers. Five years. Five years since Minerva found Potter's Hogwarts letter sitting on her desk, 'location unknown' written clearly in green ink. Five years since Dumbledore had questioned those idiot Muggle relatives, only to learn that they had dropped Potter off at an orphanage the day they'd found him on their doorstep. Well, the orphanage had since closed, the records lost and Potter's location along with them.

"Well?" Dumbledore's concerned question pulled Severus from his thoughts.

Severus walked around the bed, pulling the curtain closed behind him. "The curse is gone," he said. "He's lucky. He'll be weak for at least a week, possibly longer, but I think I was able to prevent any lasting damage. If it had progressed much further, the damage would have been much greater."

"Good, good. Thank you, my boy."

"What happened, Albus?" Severus asked. After years of searching, he needed to know. "Where was he found? Who cursed him? Where has he been all these years?"

Dumbledore sighed. "Can your questions wait a few minutes, Severus? I'm afraid I don't have many answers, myself, and I'd rather not have to repeat what little I do know. I'll be calling an Order meeting as soon as Poppy is finished. It seems that the entire Order is here already, so you won't have long to wait."

As Severus nodded his acceptance, Poppy stepped out from behind the curtain.

"He's stable," she said. "I've patched him up, taken care of all of the surface wounds, repaired the broken bones… I gave him some dreamless sleep, so he should stay unconscious for at least another twelve hours. But Albus, there's something else…" She trailed off, glancing at Severus, but Dumbledore merely waved for her to continue.

"He's been… raped. Repeatedly." Even Severus couldn't hold back his hiss of revulsion as Poppy continued. "I was able to heal the physical damage but…" Her voice cracked, tears welling in her eyes.

Dumbledore reached a hand out to grip Poppy's shoulder. "There, there dear. He'll be all right. We'll be here for him." He handed her a handkerchief and she dabbed at her red-rimmed eyes. "Why don't we keep this between us for now, hm? I'm sure Harry wouldn't want the whole Order knowing everything he's been through."

Poppy nodded her assent while Severus shoved down the bile that was threatening to climb up his throat. Raped. Hadn't the boy been through enough? He had hated the elder Potter, but the younger Potter, Harry, Lily's son; he didn't deserve this. No one deserved this.

Severus took a deep breath, forcing his thoughts to calm. "Albus, I think you should call that meeting now, before you have the whole Order swarming the boy's hospital bed." A glance toward the waiting members showed a sea of restless, worried faces.

Albus followed his gaze with another sigh. "Poppy, could you remain here and keep an eye on Harry? I'll clear everyone else from the room for a while. When do you think he would be awake for a visitor or two? Perhaps his godfather? Or one of the Weasley's if you think he would respond better to someone his own age?"

"Give the boy a few days, Albus. I'll be able to tell you more when he wakes up. Tell them they will have to wait until this weekend at the earliest. That's only three days away; I imagine they can give the poor child that long to heal."

"Of course, Poppy. We'll see how he feels when he wakes up." With that, Albus turned and walked through the crowd to the hospital wing doors, beckoning the others to follow. Severus waited until the last person, the mutt of course, had left the room before following. They made the journey to the headmaster's office in silence, taking their seats without any of the usual prattle.

"I'm sure you all have questions," the headmaster said once they were all seated. "I'm not sure how many of those questions I will be able to answer, but I'll do my best. First, the facts. Mundungus, care to tell your part?"

"Not much ter tell. I were dahn Knockturn, heard sumfink dahn one of the side allies. Went ter investigate, make sure no one were 'urt yer know."

"More like turn out their pockets I'd wager," Severus muttered, receiving a glare from the thief.

"As I were sayin', I went ter see if evry'one were awright, right, and I found 'im. Didn't know 'oo 'e were o'course, but 'e were 'urt bad, and then I seen his scar, and I 'ad this real sick feelin'. So I brought 'im ter Poppy, and she called yer, and 'ere we are."

"Where exactly in Knockturn was he found?" Severus asked.

"Club district, dahn by Dragon's Breaff."

"Then whoever attacked him wanted him to be found," Severus said, "though I doubt they expected him to be found alive. That district has a lot of traffic later in the night, but the curse they left him with would have killed him long before most of those clubs opened."

"A message, perhaps?" Asked Dumbledore.

"Perhaps, but for whom? We have to consider that this attack has more to do with where the boy has been for the past fourteen years, and less to do with him being Harry Potter."

"Honestly, does it matter?" Molly Weasley's exasperated voice broke in. "The poor dear has been beaten to within an inch of his life, and who knows what else he's been through. What's important is that he's back with us now, that we can help him heal, show him how loved he is."

Severus fought the urge to roll his eyes. Most people would need a mind healer and years of therapy, but surely the great Harry Potter would be fine with the power of _love_ …

"This conversation is pointless," he growled. "We just don't have enough information. I say we wait for the boy to wake up, heal. See what kind of mental state he's in."

"There's plenty we can do before he wakes up!" Tonks exclaimed. "We can take a group of Aurors down, show his picture around, see if we can find witnesses, someone that knew him-"

"Oh, of course, why didn't I think of that," Severus snapped dryly. "Simply task an Auror force to investigate an unreported crime, and in the process alert the Dark Lord that Potter has been found. And give him a way to recognise the boy while we're at it." Tonks blushed, seeming to sink into her chair. "I have brewing that needs completed. If there's nothing else…"

"No, of course, Severus," Dumbledore replied as Severus got to his feet. "I'll alert you if we have anything new."

Severus gave the headmaster a curt nod and he left the room. He headed down the stairs, intending to Floo back to Spinner's End from his quarters. But instead, he found himself walking back into the hospital wing, staring down at that mystery of a boy.

"Severus? What are you doing back here?"

As he turned to address Poppy, a glint of silver on the bedside table caught his eye. He paused, reaching out a hand to pick up the band of black silk with the round silver pendant. The name Kaleb was engraved in the metal, but it was otherwise a very plain piece. Such a small thing, yet the implications…

"Was this found on the boy?" He asked Poppy, his thumb tracing the soft slip of silk.

"Well, yes, it was in his hand. Why?"

"It's nothing, just curious," he replied. "I'll leave you to your patient."

Severus headed to the hospital Floo, sliding the collar into his robe pocket. Perhaps there were questioned that could be answered before the boy awoke. But Severus was no longer sure he wanted those answers.


	3. Chapter 3

**Disclaimer: The idea may be mine, but the characters are not.**

 **Chapter 3**

Severus stepped out of his fireplace and headed straight for his bedroom. He quickly changed into a set of Muggle attire; black jeans, long-sleeved black shirt with a silver design on the left side, black leather belt and boots. He tied his hair back, checked that his wand was properly hidden in his wrist holster, transferred the silk collar from his robes pocket to his jeans, and apparated to an alley in Muggle London.

He slipped onto the street unnoticed, walking for several blocks before stopping in front of a small storefront. The sign in the window read "Atra Rosa", the black rose, blood red letters painted across the image of its namesake. Severus stepped through the door and paused to take in the smell of leather and rubber. He hadn't realised how much he would miss that scent…

He took a moment to look around the shop, but not much had changed. Racks of corsets, leathers, outfits and bodysuits were scattered across the floor. Heels, boots, and other footwear were displayed on the walls toward the front of the shop. Floggers, canes, and paddles were on the wall toward the back. There was a section for cuffs, ropes, and other restraints, a display of collars and leashes, and a glass case with plugs, rings, and other toys. There was a small section of books and videos, and an album by the counter with pictures of various pieces of furniture that could be ordered and installed.

The middle-aged man sitting behind the counter had looked up when Severus had entered, and was now eyeing him uncertainly. As Severus attempted to meet his eyes, the man - Jefferson, his memory supplied - immediately dropped his gaze. Interesting. "I'm looking for Damian."

"Back room, sir," came the gruff response. Severus stared at Jefferson for a long moment; he didn't remember the man being so easily intimidated. But it was of no consequence, so with a quick nod, he turned and walked through the curtained entrance, feeling the muggle repulsion and notice-me-not charms wash over him.

The back room looked much like the front, except with the addition of a line of potions, and the fact that most of the items on display were charmed in some way. It was also, thankfully, just as vacant. He spotted Damian easily; his neon blue hair was hard to miss. As he approached, Damian looked up from his paperwork, and quickly jumped to his feet. Severus froze. His instinct was to scan the room for the obvious threat, but Severus quickly realized that to Damian, _he_ was the threat… He just couldn't imagine why. Severus slowly raised his hands in a show of placation as he spoke.

"Damian, I just want to talk."

"I don't want any trouble," Damian replied quickly, eyes darting to the door.

Severus sighed, crossing his arms. "Merlin, Damian, what is your problem? I just need some information. What kind of trouble are you expecting?"

Damian seemed to take in the confused and mildly annoyed look on Severus' face, and seemed to relax slightly. "I haven't seen you in three years, Severus. Not since…"

"Not since before the Dark Lord returned, I know. I thought my reasons would be clear enough."

"Yeah, pretty clear. Can't be caught sleeping with the Muggles when you're playing lapdog to a blood purist," Damian practically growled. "You dropped Nate with his sister, no explanation… The boy was a wreck for a month trying to figure out what he'd done wrong."

The accusatory tone made Severus cringe. "Better for the boy to be disappointed than dead, Damian."

Damian stared at him as if debating about the truth of Severus' words. Then he nodded slowly and sat back down. "Ok, alright. I never wanted to believe the worst of you, but I've heard… things… And in this day and age, you just never know who to trust." Damian conjured a chair and motioned for Severus to sit. "You said you needed information. What do you need to know?"

Severus pulled the collar from his pocket as he sat down, laying it in front of Damian. He watched as Damian tensed again, back going rigid, eyes wide and guarded. He stared at Severus for a long moment, then sighed and reached a hand out to the black silk. "You found him, then?" he finally asked. Severus merely nodded in response, waiting for the man to continue. "He was a good kid," Damian continued, staring at the collar in his hand.

"Is," Severus interjected.

"What?"

"He _is_ a good kid. He's alive."

Damian's head snapped up. "Alive? You have him? Is he safe?"

"Yes, Damian," Severus replied, trying to keep the annoyance from his voice. "Why exactly would I need answers about a corpse?"

"Right, sorry, ok, Merlin, I thought for sure the kid was dead." Damian took another look at the collar, then continued. "His name is Kaleb, as I'm sure you could tell from his collar. He was one of Mac's boys. He's been with Mac for just over a year I think. Muggle, eighteen years old or so, no family that I've heard tell of. Mac found him in a Muggle dungeon, never said which one, but the boy was unattached and living rough. He seemed pretty accepting of magic. Unlike you, Mac preferred his subs to know about our world, Statute of Secrecy be damned. Though after what happened, Kaleb will probably want to disappear into the Muggle world and never hear the word 'magic' again."

"What happened?" Severus prompted.

"It was just over a week ago. Mac had taken Kaleb out to one of the clubs on our side. Nothing unusual. He frequented clubs in both the Muggle and magical worlds. But that night… A group of _his_ followers showed up. I'm not sure if they were looking for Mac, or if it was just bad luck. Anyways, from what I hear, words were exchanged, a fight broke out, and it all went sideways. Even four against one, Mac should have been fine. But a stray spell hit Kaleb, and then Mac went down. Dead. Then one of the… One of _them_ grabbed Kaleb and they were all gone."

Severus took some time to digest everything Damian had said. Most of what he knew about Potter, Kaleb, was wrong. The boy was obviously a wizard, not a Muggle, and he wouldn't even turn sixteen until the end of the month. But the rest seemed pretty straight forward. Obviously the Death Eaters that had taken Potter didn't know who he was, else they would have taken him straight to the Dark Lord.

"What can you tell me about Mac?" he asked. "Why would the Dark Lord be interested in him?" And why would four against one be even odds for the man, Severus wondered.

"Ah, Mac, short for MacDonigan. Douglas MacDonigan."

"The dueler?"

"One and the same. He was a good man. Powerful, but quiet. Liked to keep to himself. He stayed neutral in the first war, thought he could do the same this time around."

"What kind of a Dom was Mac? What kind of relationship did he have with Kaleb? You said they were together for over a year?"

"You know I don't usually share personal information, Severus," Damian said slowly. "But if you think it will help Kaleb…"

"It will," Severus replied quickly, and Damian nodded.

"Alright. Mac was a good Dom. Reminded me a bit of you to be honest. He preferred Muggles, but didn't mind the occasional wizard. Always liked them younger than my tastes, nothing illegal mind you, but I don't think I saw him with anyone over twenty-five. He liked his subs with a bit of a backbone, and he didn't share. Kaleb obviously had a rough start to life, though I never knew any of the details. He was the perfect submissive for Mac, the trust and respect he had for the man was clear to see. But if he didn't know you…

"There was this incident in my shop a few months back. Mac had left Kaleb to look around the Muggle side while he was finishing up an order back here. Another Muggle came in and approached Kaleb, was getting a little too forceful with his attentions. Jefferson had called for me to come handle it, but by the time Mac and I made it to the front of the shop, Kaleb had a knife on the man's thigh and a frankly terrifying grin on his face." Damian chuckled at the memory before continuing.

"But one word from Mac and the knife had vanished and Kaleb was kneeling like nothing had happened. They worked well together. They were lifestyle, they both preferred it that way. I think Mac had taken a real liking to Kaleb. This past year was the longest I'd seen him with the same sub. Merlin, the boy is going to be crushed."

They sat in silence for a time, Severus trying to put together some of the puzzle pieces of the boys past. Damian seemed to think highly of Mac, so it was entirely possible that Mac had believed the same lies about Potter that Damian had repeated to him. Despite being collared at such a young age, the boy still seemed to have a backbone. He couldn't imagine how Potter had found himself in this lifestyle, another question that would have to wait until the boy was awake, but at least he hadn't been broken by it. And though his relationship with the Dom had been inappropriate, it seemed to have been consensual, unlike what Severus had feared.

"You'll take care of him, won't you?" Damian asked quietly. "I mean, I know you're out of the lifestyle, I think I even understand why, but Kaleb has no one. I'd take him in but, well, I'm walking a fine line here. I've been staying mostly under the radar, but taking in a sub who's supposed to be dead…"

"I'll do what I can," Severus reassured the man. Though he wouldn't need to do much. Potter would have the rest of the Order fawning over him. He would be fine. Severus would convince Dumbledore to bring in a mind healer, help the boy through the trauma of the attack. He would have the support of the Order, and that mutt of a godfather. He would probably become friends with the Weasley boy, especially with Molly mothering him. Yes, he would be fine.

With that thought, Severus stood and thanked Damian for his help. He'd learned what he needed to know, and Damian knew he wasn't fond of idle chatter. Damian handed him back the collar, "In case Kaleb wants it," and Severus apparated back to Spinner's End.


	4. Chapter 4

**Disclaimer: Not Mine**

 **A/N: There may be some things that will look like bashing in this chapter, and in the future. I don't really do character bashing, but I strongly believe in grey characters, and human characters. So before someone freaks out, I just wanted to clarify that this is not an evil!Dumbledore fic or anything like that. Ok? Good.**

 **Chapter 4**

The next ten days passed fairly quietly for Severus. He had been summoned by the Dark Lord only once, to give an update on the Order's movements and exchange his completed potions with a new list to brew. He had a meeting with Dumbledore that afternoon for the same purpose. It was occasionally disheartening how similar his roles were for both sides of the war…

He had done his best to push thoughts of the Potter boy to the back of his mind. But though his meeting with Damian had provided a few insights, it had brought as many questions. And while he tried to convince himself that the child's life was not his concern, that the boy had other people who were much better equipped to care for him, he still couldn't help wondering about the boy's condition. Had Albus found a decent mind healer? How much did the boy know about magic? And, of course, where had he been for so many years?

As the time for his meeting at Hogwarts approached, Severus found himself pacing in front of his Floo. Finally, with a growl of frustration, he grabbed a handful of Floo powder, tossed it into the fire, and barked out "Hogwarts, Hospital Wing". And nothing happened. It appeared the Floo was blocked from visitors, which made very little sense to Severus. Now even more determined to check on the boy, he grabbed another handful of Floo powder and Flooed to his quarters in the dungeon.

He made the long trek to the Hospital Wing, only to find the door locked and warded. He considered just heading to the Headmaster's office, but his annoyance and curiosity won out, and he slowly began dismantling the wards. And as the door finally slid open, the need for secrecy became clear.

Potter was lying in the middle of the only hospital bed left in the room. He was asleep, but his limp limbs and open mouth told Severus that it was a drugged sleep, not a natural one. But while a drugged sleep could be explained away as a respite from nightmares, which the boy would surely have, it would not explain the restraints. This wrists and ankles were cuffed to the bed, and a wide strap lay over his midsection, fully restricting his movement.

Severus turned on his heel and stormed to the Headmaster's office. He snapped the password, took the stairs two at a time, and threw open the door. Dumbledore was sitting behind his desk, staring at the fuming potion's master in confusion.

"What in Salazar's name have you done to the boy?" Severus spat before Dumbledore could so much as open his mouth.

A look of understanding dawned on Dumbledore's face, followed by guilt and at least a little shame. "So you stopped to see Harry on your way here, I see. That Wing was warded for a reason, Severus."

"Not warded well enough, obviously. I'm still waiting for answers Albus." Severus replied with a pointed glare.

"Please sit down, my boy. There are things that you don't understand-"

"I'm not going to sit down. And before you ask, I don't want tea, and I don't want a blasted lemon drop. What I want it to know why a traumatised fifteen year old boy is drugged and strapped to a bed in your Hospital Wing!"

"Enough!" Dumbledore stood abruptly and brought his hand down on his desk, the crack of his palm against the wood punctuating his shout. "I have had a difficult day as it is, and I will not allow you to judge my actions without knowing what led to them. Now sit down, rein in that temper of yours, and allow me to explain!"

Severus sat down. Dumbledore slowly settled himself into his own seat, his right hand reaching up to massage his temple. The room was silent for a long moment while Severus waited, impatiently, for Dumbledore to collect his thoughts.

"Harry woke up Thursday morning, as was expected. But, he didn't appear to truly be awake. His eyes were open. If you set food in front of him, he would eat, he would use the facilities when he was led to them, but otherwise, it was like the boy was sleepwalking. He didn't speak, he didn't respond when spoken to, he didn't even flinch when Poppy was running diagnostic scans. For three days, he ate and slept and not much else. Poppy said that there wasn't anything wrong with him physically, so on Sunday, we allowed a few Order members to visit. Molly, Sirius, the youngest Mr Weasley, hoping that one of them would incite some sort of reaction. Sirius brought him pictures of his family, we all told him about the wizarding world, Ronald even brought him some Quidditch magazines, but still the boy sat there, completely blank."

"And what exactly did you expect? For the boy to wake up, embrace you with open arms, and tell you his life story?" Severus scoffed. "What did the mind healer say?"

Dumbledore cringed. "We couldn't call for a mind healer, Severus. What would we tell them? They would have to inform the ministry that Harry had been found, and Voldemort has too many people there. He would know before the day was out."

Severus stared at the headmaster in shock. "You can't keep him hidden from the Dark Lord forever. The boy needs help. He needs someone to talk to."

"He has all of us…"

"Someone qualified," Severus snapped. "Someone who understands what he's been through. I doubt Mr Weasley fits that description.

"And this still doesn't explain," Severus continued, "how the boy ended up chained to a bed." It was taking every ounce of his control not to hex the old fool into next week.

"That was my fault," Dumbledore said, guilt written clearly across his face. "He was so closed down. And I didn't expect a boy with no magical training to know Occlumency…"

"You use Legilimency on the boy!? What. Were. You. THINKING?"

"I was thinking that we needed answers he wasn't willing to give us. I was thinking that I couldn't help him without knowing what was going on inside his head. I was thinking that an untrained fifteen year old boy wouldn't notice if I brushed against his mind. I didn't know what else to do!"

Severus took a deep breath, closed his eyes, and pinched the bridge of his nose. "So let me see if I have this correct," he said as calmly as he could manage. "You took a boy who had just been through a horrible ordeal, denied him the help of a skilled mind healer, bombarded him with strangers and new information that he was not ready to deal with, then invaded his mind because you couldn't figure out what was wrong with him?"

Dumbledore slumped farther into his chair with a sigh. "That is a very harsh way to word it, my boy."

"And it still doesn't explain why Potter is restrained," Severus said.

"As I said, Harry knows Occlumency. He is actually a fairly powerful Occlumens, though he doesn't have any finesse. When he felt me touch his mind, he lashed out. Rather quickly, and very violently. He forced me out of his mind, stole Poppy's wand, and proceeded to destroy the hospital wing. I was forced to stun him." Dumbledore grimaced. "Now, every time he wakes, he starts screaming profanities and lashing out in any way he can. We had to restrain him, for his safety as well as our own."

Severus nodded slowly, taking some time to think before asking his next questions. Albus had failed the boy. The Order had no idea how to handle him. And it was entirely possible that he would fail just as spectacularly. But perhaps… "When did all of this happen, what is Poppy drugging him with and when was his last dose?"

"Yesterday morning, one of the sedatives, but you would have to ask Poppy which and when," Dumbledore said slowly.

Severus rose and gave a curt nod. He pulled a piece of parchment from his pocket and placed it on Dumbledore's desk. "These are the potions ingredients that will need to be restocked. I will leave the potions you requested with Poppy, and talk to her about what else she needs me to brew. There is nothing to report from the Dark Lord. Now if you'll excuse me, I'm going to see if I can clean up your mess."

The original purpose of this meeting concluded, Severus swept out of the headmaster's office without waiting for a reply. He strode back to the hospital wing, stopping outside the doors to calm his anger, and admittedly, calm his nerves. This could work, but it could also go very wrong. But he couldn't sit back and do nothing. With that thought, Severus pushed open the doors and knocked on Poppy's office. It didn't take long to get the boy's records. He easily found the counter to the sedative Potter had been given, as well as grabbing healing salve. It took only slightly longer to convince Poppy to leave him alone with the boy. And it took no time at all to replace the wards around the room, adding a silencing charm and a few extra locks to the door.

Once he was sure that he wouldn't be disturbed, Severus approached the boy's bed. He spelled the counter potion into Potter's stomach, and summoned a chair while the boy slowly woke up. And just as Dumbledore had said, the boy opened his eyes and let loose a barrage of profanities. He struggled against the restraints, tried to buck himself off the bed, screamed, spat, cursed until he was red in the face. And through it all, Severus sat and watched the boy from his chair, just out of the boy's reach, but easily within sight. After listening to almost fifteen minutes of the boy's admittedly impressive vocabulary, Severus had seen what he'd needed to. The words might be harsh, but the eyes… The eyes held nothing but fear and desperation.

"Kaleb, enough." Severus' voice was soft but firm. The boy cut off mid-curse, eyes wide, chest heaving. Severus nodded, keeping the same soft tone. "Breathe. I won't have you passing out because you hyperventilated."

"You know my name," Potter said softly, the panic slowly leaving his eyes. "How do you know my name?"

Severus reached into his robe pocket slowly and brought out the boy's collar. He let it dangle between his fingers for a moment before reaching out to set it on the bedside table. "We need to have a conversation. I would prefer to do so without you lying flat on your back." Severus held up the small jar of salve. "This is for the friction burns I'm sure you've given yourself. I am going to remove the restraints, and you will put the salve on. I will not tolerate your recent behaviour, is that clear?"

The boy nodded.

"I require a verbal response, Kaleb."

"Yes, sir. It's clear, sir."

Severus allowed a small smile to turn up the corners of his mouth. "Good boy." He considered simply vanishing the restraints, but the boy was being surprisingly calm now, and Severus didn't want to throw him into another panic by pulling out his wand. So instead, Severus stood and slowly walked to the bed. He chose a wrist cuff first, releasing the catch easily. The strap across his stomach came next, then both ankles, and finally the other wrist. As soon as the last restraint was released, Potter sat up, pulling his knees to his chest and rubbing his wrists. Severus walked back to his chair, watching the boy's eyes dart to the door.

"The salve, Kaleb," Severus said, holding out the jar. Potter pulled his eyes from his means of escape and hesitantly took the jar, sniffing the contents. A look of surprise flashed across his face, there and gone almost too quick to notice. Even Severus might have missed it if he hadn't been watching for it. The boy started to apply the salve as Severus sat back down. "You have questions," Severus stated. "Ask them."

This time, Potter didn't try to hide his surprise. "You're going to answer my questions?"

"Did no one offer to answer your questions before now?"

"No, sir. They mostly talked at me, or asked me a bunch of questions. They kept calling me 'Harry', and they wanted to know where I'd been staying and if I knew about magic, things like that." The boy gave him a calculating look. "But you're offering to answer my questions. Why?"

Severus had to smirk. He could see the intelligence in the boy's bright green eyes, the stubbornness in the set of his brow. It was an expression Lily had worn often. "Because I want answers," Severus answered honestly. "But to get answers, there will have to be trust between us. So I will answer your questions, and hopefully, in the future, you will be willing to answer some of mine. Ask."

Potter nodded, thinking as he finished rubbing the salve into his ankles, the friction burns quickly fading. "Where did you get the salve?"

Severus fought to contain a chuckle. Such an innocently loaded question. "I made it. But that's not what you really want to know, is it? I helped Damian perfect this salve several years ago, and it is sold exclusively at Atra Rosa. Yes, I know Damian."

The boy nodded again, handing the jar back to Severus and settling back on the bed. "Why am I here instead of St Mungo's?"

"Because it is safer here. The men who attacked you left you for dead. We didn't want them to know that they had failed, or risk them trying again."

"Mac's dead though, isn't he… Else he would be here too." The boy's voice caught slightly at Mac's name, but otherwise his voice was dry and emotionless.

"Yes, he is," Severus replied.

"I want to go home, but I don't have a home to go to, do I?"

Severus thought about how to answer that for a long moment. "You have options. Some come with more risks than others, and all of them will require you to accept some unpleasant truths."

"Unpleasant truths," Potter repeated. "Like why everyone calls me 'Harry'?"

"Yes."

The boy thought for a long time. Eyes staring at his clasped hands, face entirely unreadable, still as stone, until Severus wondered if the boy was going to speak at all. Finally, Potter looked up, green eyes meeting black. "I want to know."

"Then I will tell you. You were born Harry James Potter on July 31st, 1980…" Severus told Potter the facts, most of them at least. He told him about the first war, he told him about his parents' deaths, the fall of the Dark Lord, and reluctantly, after much prodding, he told him about the prophecy. He told him about how Dumbledore left him with his Muggle relatives, and how they, in turn, had left him at the orphanage. He told him about the unaddressed acceptance letter and the frantic search that followed. He told him about the youngest Weasley's death and the return of the Dark Lord. Many times Severus thought he should stop, worried he would overwhelm the boy, berating himself for doing exactly what he accused Dumbledore of not an hour earlier. But then Potter would ask a perceptive question, and Severus would continue.

Eventually, the boy ran out of questions, and Severus ran out of facts. Severus watched the boy as he took everything in, outwardly calm, face impassive.

"I suppose I'll have to get used to being called Harry, won't I?"

"Yes, I imagine you will."

"I need some time. I need to think. But… Can you come back? Tomorrow?"

Severus nodded his consent before he realised what he'd agreed to. He sighed in resignation, knowing that he couldn't refuse the boy. Severus stood to leave, then stopped himself at the foot of the boy's bed. "I won't be able to prevent the others from visiting you," he said.

"Yes, sir," came the dejected reply.

"I know you don't have any reason to like or trust them, or even me. But I need you to try. Try not to shut them out. Can you do that?"

"Yes, sir," he said with a hint of determination.

"Good. I will see you tomorrow," Severus said as he headed for the door. "And Kaleb? You might want to keep your collar hidden. They may not know what it is, but if they do, I don't think they'll be very understanding."

Severus watched as Kaleb nodded his assent, then turned and walked out of the hospital wing. He dropped the wards once he was outside the door, and saw Poppy sitting in a conjured chair just down the corridor. She bolted upright when she saw Severus, obviously annoyed at being locked out of her domain for so long.

"What exactly was all of this about, Severus? You've been locked up with that boy for almost three hours! I wasn't sure which of you to be more worried about. What were you thinking, warding the room so strongly? What happened with the boy?"

Severus held up a hand to cut off her tirade. "Potter is fine. I removed his restraints, and I do not want to see them used again. He is awake, and calm, though I imagine tired. I will be back to check on him tomorrow."

Poppy gaped at Severus and he could see the questions building behind her eyes. Before she could collect her thoughts enough to start seeking answers, Severus was gone, striding quickly toward the dungeons.

 **A/N: Ok, yes I killed Ginny. I'm sorry, don't hate me, but it only made logical sense. Harry wasn't there to save her, but as far as I can tell, Malfoy would have still needed to get rid of the diary, and framing the Weasley's would have been a politically intelligent maneuver, so that wouldn't have changed. I'm trying really hard to account for the ripple effect that Harry's absence would have had. Some of it probably isn't relevant and thus won't be mentioned, while other things will be mentioned/addressed in the future. Oh, and if anyone noticed the timeline inconsistencies with canon last chapter (how long the Dark Lord has been back) this is the reason.**


	5. Chapter 5

**Disclaimer: Not mine.**

 **Chapter 5**

Kaleb's eyes followed the man as he disappeared out the door, black robes billowing behind him. He wished he could follow him. He wished he was able to just walk out that door and disappear.

His mind was still reeling from everything he had heard. He knew he looked calm enough; he had learned early in life that showing emotion was a weakness, and he couldn't afford to be weak. But inside, his thoughts were racing, his stomach twisting. All he wanted was to go home. Back to the little flat in London with the off-white couch and the TV that only worked part of the time, the dark cherry cabinets and the always stocked fridge, the dark blue bedspread and the four poster bed with rings in all the right places, and the routine, knowing when to wake up, what needed done, when to start dinner so that it would be on the table when Mac got home…

But Mac was gone.

Kaleb was still staring at the partially open door when the nurse - mediwitch - walked back in. He dug through his memories of the past week and put a name to her face; Pomfrey, Madam Pomfrey. She stopped just inside the door, giving him an appraising look that he met defiantly. After several moments, she sighed, shook her head, and approached the bed.

"I've been told you've decided to be reasonable again?" She asked.

Kaleb fought to keep the sneer off his face. Acting as if they had done nothing wrong, unbelievable. He wanted to scream, accuse her of kidnapping, throw something. He wanted to be left alone. But instead, he merely nodded his head, trying to look contrite.

"Good," she said. She pulled out her wand and Kaleb tensed, his heart leaping into his throat when she waved it toward him. But then she slid the wand back up her sleeve, and Kaleb realised she'd only vanished the restraints. That should have been comforting, but he knew that Madam Pomfrey could make things appear as easily as she could make them disappear.

"You've entirely missed lunch," Madam Pomfrey continued, "but Sirius has asked if he can join you for dinner. Would you like that?"

Sirius… Sirius Black. His godfather. Wrongfully imprisoned, recently pardoned, probably insane. He talked too much, told terrible stories that he found funny, asked a lot of questions, and treated him like he was five. He was quite possibly the last person Kaleb wanted to see right now. He nodded anyways.

"Alright then. Why don't you get cleaned up before dinner? There's clean robes in the bathroom. I'll be in my office if you need anything."

Kaleb watched Madam Pomfrey enter her office, noticing that she'd left the door ajar. He rolled out of the bed and made his way to the bathroom, finding a neat stack of clean clothes just like she'd said. He turned on the shower and stepped in, reveling in the hot water. Even after almost two years with Mac, hot showers still felt like a luxury.

He washed slowly, tracing his new scars with light fingers. The skin was still a pale pink, soft and a little tender. The scar on his left wrist would probably blend in to the rope burn scar he'd received when he was seven, and now he had a matching scar on his right wrist. He was sure that he'd added at least a few new scars to his back, but since his back was already crisscrossed with scars from belts and switches over the years, that didn't seem to matter much. The worst was the scar along his collarbone. It was an still an angry red, the skin pinched and puckered. But it had been healed with magic, so it probably wouldn't be as bad as the scar on his side, from the knife fight he'd gotten into shortly after he turned thirteen.

Kaleb leaned forward, resting his forehead against the cool tile and letting the hot water cascade down his back. Mac had promised him no more scars. But he supposed it was hard to keep your word when you were dead. Silent tears began to roll down the bridge of his nose, mixing with the shower water and washing down the drain.

When Kaleb emerged from the shower, his fingers looked like prunes and there was no sign that he'd been crying. He dressed, feeling slightly awkward in the closed front wizarding robes, but they were better than the thin hospital scrubs he'd been wearing. He stepped out of the bathroom and found two trays of food, a pair of wingback chairs, and an excited Sirius Black waiting for him.

"Harry!" Sirius exclaimed, bouncing to his feet. "Look at you! You look like a proper wizard now! Poppy said you had a bad day yesterday, wouldn't let me visit. But she said you're feeling better today? Come, sit, eat, you must be starving! I know I'm starving. Growing boys are always hungry, right?"

Kaleb considered tuning him out, but that hadn't gotten him anywhere before. So he sat down and pulled the tray close to the chair, wondering if Sirius would stop yammering if he had food in his mouth. At least dinner looked good. Roast, carrots, mashed potatoes, rolls, a glass of milk to drink and some sort of pie for dessert. He ate slowly, his stomach still a bit touchy from all the potions.

"So now that you're feeling better, maybe we can talk about some things, yeah? Like where you're going to stay until school starts. I imagine they'll put you in with the sixth years. But you probably have a lot of catching up to do. Still, Lily and James were smart, top of their class and all, so you should be able to catch up quick. I imagine you'll come stay with me, since I'm your godfather, it's what your parents would have wanted. My house isn't much, but I've been fixing up a room for you, and there's lots of space."

Oh god, he was supposed to go live with this man? He could barely tolerate him for a few hours at a time! Kaleb concentrated on his breathing, a calming technique Mac had taught him to help with his Occlemency. Sirius was too busy nattering away to notice he'd stopped eating.

"Dumbledore will probably want you to visit the castle over the summer, since you can practice magic here. Maybe we can go flying down on the Quidditch pitch! You'll have to get a broom! I bet you'll be great on a broom. Your dad was a bloody brilliant chaser. I know! We can get you a broom for your birthday! I've been planning a party, you know. Sort of a Happy 16th birthday, welcome home get together. The Weasley's are com-"

Kaleb stopped listening. A birthday party. His birthday. He'd already celebrated his birthday, last month with Mac. Mac had thought it was his eighteenth birthday, since he'd lied about his age, but that was the only thing he'd ever lied to Mac about. They'd had cake. Mac had bought him a few spell books. He'd been teaching him magic, mostly defensive spells in case he ever got into trouble. Fat lot of good that had done him. No, that wasn't Mac's fault, he'd done everything he could. More than anyone else would have done for him. He didn't even get to keep his birthday. He didn't want to be Harry Potter. He didn't want to celebrate his birthday again, with a bunch of strangers. He didn't want to live with this crazy man that didn't know a thing about him. He didn't want to go to this school. He didn't want to hear about the parents he'd never met, the life he could have had. He didn't want to learn about Dark Lords and prophecies. He didn't want to be The Boy Who Lived. He just wanted to be Kaleb.

At some point, Kaleb had started shaking his head, and Sirius had stopped talking, listening instead to the muttered "No, no, no, no…" coming from his godson.

"Harry?" He said, uncertainly.

"No, no, please, no, stop, no, no, I can't…"

"Harry, calm down, it's ok, whatever you want kid."

"No, I won't, I, no, please, no, just me, I can't, no, no…"

"POPPY!" Sirius yelled, and Madam Pomfrey came running out of her office.

"What happened?" She snapped, whipping out her wand. Kaleb didn't even notice. She cast a quick diagnostic spell, but other than an elevated heart rate, everything came back normal.

"I don't know, I was talking about his birthday party, maybe getting him a broom and teaching him to fly, and next thing I know…" Sirius waved a hand in Kaleb's direction.

"All right, let's get him a calming draught and put him to bed. Harry? Harry can you look at me please?" Madam Pomfrey summoned a vial of calming draught from her cabinet and grasped Kaleb on the shoulder. His head snapped up, his mumbling cut off, his muscles tensed, ready to bolt or lash out. Madam Pomfrey took one look at his face and let go of his shoulder. "I need you to drink this dear. It's just a calming draught, to settle your nerves a bit, ok?"

Kaleb nodded. He reached up and took the vial, trying to swallow it fast enough not to taste it, and couldn't keep from gagging a bit when he tasted it anyways. He could feel his body start to relax, even though his mind was still racing.

"Let's get you into bed, ok?" Madam Pomfrey continued, motioning behind him. Kaleb saw that the bed had been remade with crisp clean sheets. He nodded his head. Sleep, he needed to sleep. Maybe he would wake up and this whole thing would have been one horrible nightmare. He stood up stiffly, stumbling over to the bed and crawling between the sheets. Sirius had followed him, and stood next to his bed, looking uncomfortable.

Madam Pomfrey summoned another vial from her cabinet. "Here, Harry, this one too. It will help you sleep," she said, holding out the vial.

Kaleb shook his head. Potions never helped him sleep. If anything, they made his nightmares worse.

"Don't be difficult Kaleb. It's just dreamless sleep. So you can sleep a full night without having any nightmares."

Kaleb shook his head harder, and Madam Pomfrey sent a questioning look to Sirius.

Sirius sighed. "Just spell it into him Poppy. He obviously hasn't been sleeping well."

"No, please, don't…" Kaleb was practically begging. But it didn't matter. They didn't care what he wanted. He watched as Madam Pomfrey waved her wand, felt something cold settle in his stomach, like swallowing an icecube. As his eyes began to shut, Kaleb felt a tear roll down his cheek. His last thought before he drifted off was of the man in the black robes, the only one who had listened to him since he'd been brought here, the nameless man who called him Kaleb.

 **A/N: Yeah, in all that conversation last chapter, Severus never told Kaleb his name. Idiot, lol. How hard is it to say "Btw, my name's Severus Snape." Well, guess he'll have to wait to find out who the man in the black robes is lol.**


	6. Chapter 6

**Disclaimer: Not mine.**

 **A/N: I would like to remind everyone of the content warnings at the beginning of the story. Parts of this chapter are not nice…**

 **Chapter 6**

Severus stumbled through his Floo into his sitting room at Spinner's End. He ripped the bone white mask off his face, letting it clatter to the floor. The pitch black robes were hurriedly pulled over his head, balled up and tossed into a corner. He'd worry about the blood stains later.

He left a trail of black clothing on his way to the bathroom, boots kicked off, shirt thrown over a chair, trousers and socks left in the middle of the hall. Severus didn't care. He needed to shower, to scrub the blood from under his nails. But no amount of scrubbing would wash away his memories, the screams ringing over the cracks of spellfire, the acrid smell of burnt flesh and fresh blood.

Tonight's raid had been on a Muggle restaurant; the owner's sister was a Muggle-born witch who worked in the Ministry, and the Dark Lord had decided to make an example of her. They'd hit in the middle of the dinner rush, and the restaurant was crowded, every table full.

 _He apparated into the middle of the room, the crack of his apparition echoing as other masked and robed figures appeared. There were four people sitting at the table in front of him, a man, a woman, a boy that looked barely old enough to be a first year, and a girl even younger. The man was looking around the room in confusion, not yet afraid. Severus raised his wand, pointing it at the little girl, face emotionless behind his mask. A softly spoken spell, a flash of green, the girl collapsed and the woman jumped to her side. The boy fell next as the woman began to scream._

Severus fell against the wall, grabbing onto the bathroom door frame. He always killed the children first; he was one of the few who would offer them a quick death. It was the least he could do, and the most he could do. Some of the others liked to play with their victims…

 _A blonde woman bent over a table, naked breasts pressed into her half-eaten dinner, eyes fixed on the still warm corpse of the man she'd been eating with. A masked Death Eater, robes pulled up to his waist, grunting as he thrust into her, hard and fast. A wand placed in the small of her back, a groaned_ Crucio _, the woman screamed and flailed and the Death Eater cried out his release. A hand tangled in blonde hair, head pulled back, wand slashed across a pale throat. The masked man watched her blood spill as he laughed, thrusting a few more times before pulling out. Fluid dripped down her leg, mixing with her blood on the floor..._

Severus shook himself from the memory, flipping on the shower. He stepped under the still cold spray, but the shiver that ran over him had little to do with the temperature. The worst of it all was that their primary target hadn't even been there! Over fifty people dead, for nothing!

 _A waitress convulsed in the middle of the room, a wordless shriek tearing itself from her raw throat. Fingers scrabbled at the floor, nails ripped off leaving bloody nubs behind._

" _Where are they! Where are they!" Bellatrix's voice screamed over the girl's cries._

 _Her jeans were stained; she'd lost control of her bodily functions after the first minute under Bellatrix's care. She flopped around like a landed fish, eyes rolled back until only the whites showed. With one last shudder, the girl went limp, scream cutting off and plunging the room into eerie silence._

Severus' fist connected with the tile wall of the shower, and he felt something snap. He leant into the wall, the cool tile a sharp contrast to the now hot water. All of it had been for nothing, the owners had fled just days before. Someone was paying for the bad information, and Severus couldn't help but be glad it wasn't him. He washed slowly, trying not to watch the pink tinted water disappear down the drain.

Severus stood under the shower until the water had turned cold again. When he stepped out, his mask was back in place, his mind calm, his emotions collected. He allowed himself these moments of weakness, but only moments. He couldn't afford to let his emotions control him. No pity for the dead, no guilt for that which was out of his control, no regret for the life he had chosen all those years ago. That was the only way he could survive.

Severus was debating if he should attempt to sleep when a voice called from downstairs. He dressed quickly and headed for his sitting room, wondering what emergency he would have to deal with this time. When he walked into the room and saw Poppy's head sticking out of his fire, his thoughts immediately turned to Potter. What could have possibly happened in the short time he'd been gone?

"Severus! Thank Merlin you're home!" Poppy exclaimed when she caught sight of potions master. "I need you to come through. It's Harry. He's having some sort of nightmare, and, well, it's hard to explain."

A nightmare. They called him for a nightmare. "And why, exactly, are the boy's nightmares my concern," he sneered. "I have better thi-"

"Please just come through," Poppy interrupted. "You'll understand when you see him." And then she cut off the connection, trusting that he would follow.

Severus was tempted to take himself to bed, let Poppy and the headmaster deal with the boy. But then he remembered the cuffs around the boy's wrists, the panic in his eyes. Leaving him was not an option. Severus flooed to the hospital wing, glad that the headmaster had had the sense to remove the ward on the floo.

From Poppy's reaction, he expected to step into chaos. Instead, his entrance was met with silence; until, of course, a certain mutt turned and snarled at him.

"I don't understand why he's here," Black snapped. "I'm Harry's godfather. What makes you think Snivellus here will have any more luck than I did?"

Dumbledore stepped in, no doubt to soothe the dog's hurt feelings, but Severus was no longer listening. His eyes were fixed on a golden dome in the far corner of the room, and the boy writhing inside it. His mouth was open in a scream, though no sound could be heard. He fingers were clawing at his forehead, leaving deep gouges behind. His eyes were squeezed shut, and blood ran in rivulets down his face.

Severus didn't stop to think. His legs carried him to the edge of the dome, a hand reaching out to test the magic. He could feel a mild current running over what felt like a shield charm, a silencing charm, and a ward all wrapped into one. It was an unusual piece of accidental magic. But that wasn't important, not now at least. He pressed his hand into the shield and was surprised to find very little resistance. He heard a yell and a gasp behind him, but the voices were far away. He stepped forward and knelt down, placing himself fully inside the dome.

And all he could hear was the scream; hoarse, strangled, deafening, the boy was in agony. Severus grabbed Kaleb's wrists, pulling his hands away from his face, pinning them one handed above the boy's head. His legs thrashed, knee connecting with Severus' side, and Severus threw his leg over the boy's thighs, his free hand settling on Kaleb's chest. The dome flashed, but he was more concerned with the boy's continued screams, the heels kicking against the floor. Why wasn't he waking up? Even if Poppy had drugged him again, a nightmare like this should have woken him up. And why had no one stopped the boy from injuring himself?

Suddenly, the screams cut off, the body beneath him went rigid, and green eyes snapped open, staring wildly around him. "Kaleb?" Severus said softly. Green eyes met black, and the tension in the boy's muscles relaxed. His eyes closed slowly, a single tear ran down his cheek.

"I had a nightmare, didn't I?" His voice was rough, throat raw. He hesitantly met Severus' eyes again as Severus nodded.

"You injured yourself," Severus stated. "Deep scratches on your forehead. I would like to heal you, and then I would like an explanation."

Severus waited for the boy to nod his assent, then slowly let go of his wrists and reached for his wand. He was so focused on Kaleb, he didn't see Sirius barreling toward him until the idiot had tackled him to the ground. Severus mentally berated himself for allowing the boy to distract him so completely as he felt the tip of Black's wand dig into his neck.

"What do you think you're doing _Snape_?" Sirius spat. "And why the _hell_ could you get through that shield when none of us could?"

"Sirius, please calm down," Dumbledore's voice called. "Harry is obviously frightened-"

"Of course the kid's scared! This greasy git just assaulted him!"

Severus turned his head the best he could, seeking out Kaleb. Sure enough, the boy was huddled in the corner, wide eyes trying to watch everything at once. The scratches on his forehead were still dripping trails of blood down his face.

Severus turned back to Black and sneered. "Your _godson_ is bleeding, you fool. Perhaps that should concern you more than your petty schoolboy issues."

Black reeled back as if he'd been slapped. The idiot had actually forgotten Kaleb's injuries. He spun toward the boy, wand raised, and Kaleb let out a startled squeak, pressing himself further into the corner.

"Put your wand away, you halfwit!" Severus snapped as he climbed to his feet. "I swear, do none of you think? Albus, put a leash on your dog before he bites someone." He watched with some satisfaction as Dumbledore ushered Sirius a few steps back, though the man kept his wand in his hand. Poppy started forward, but Severus put out a hand to stop her. "Give the boy a minute, Poppy."

Severus turned back to Kaleb and waited as his breathing began to slow. "Look at me, Kaleb," he said firmly, and the boy's eyes snapped to his face.

"Who the hell is Kaleb?" He heard Black growl behind him, but Dumbledore shushed him before he could work himself into another fit.

"Up," Severus commanded. The boy stood, legs a little unsteady, but obviously determined not to ask for help. "Get into bed, and I'll fix your forehead." Kaleb walked slowly to his bed, careful not to turn his back on the other three people in the room. Severus smirked, wondering if Black even realised how little his godson trusted him. Once Kaleb had crawled between his sheets, Severus approached the bed, waving Poppy back again. He pulled up the chair and sat, meeting Kaleb's eyes. "Ready?" He asked as he raised his wand.

"Yes, sir," came the quiet reply.

Kaleb didn't flinch when Severus whispered the spells to close the wounds and clean the blood off his face. Severus knew he should be concerned that the boy trusted him that much, but instead, he just felt resigned, and perhaps a little smug. Kaleb needed to trust someone, and while he might not be the best choice, he was certainly better than his wretched godfather.

"Tell me about the nightmares," he said calmly.

"I haven't had one in a long time," Kaleb began. "Not since Mac taught me Occlumency."

Severus nodded. Clearing your mind, being able to compartmentalise your thoughts, was an effective way to stave off nightmares. It was one of the reasons he'd decided to learn Occlumency himself.

"I told them I didn't want Dreamless Sleep… But they didn't listen." Kaleb shot a glare over Severus' shoulder at that, but Severus didn't bother to see who he was glaring at. Dreamless Sleep should have stopped the nightmares entirely. He'd never known it not to work. The only disadvantage of that particular potion was its addictive properties, making it unsafe to use for extended periods of time.

"Does Dreamless Sleep always make the nightmares worse?" He asked.

"Yes, sir. Almost always at least."

Severus thought about this for a moment before asking his next question. "Do you know why we couldn't wake you up?"

"No, but Mac could never wake me up from those nightmares either."

"And the shield?"

"Shield?" Kaleb's eyes widened in surprise.

"I take it that was not intentional."

"No, sir," he replied, shaking his head.

"Very well. Poppy," Severus called over his shoulder, "when did you give him Dreamless Sleep?"

"Around 6pm last evening, but it was a low dose. It should be out of his system by now. Why?" She asked.

Severus ignored her question and turned back to Kaleb. "I don't know if you'll be able to get back to sleep, but you should try. I need to go speak with your godfather and the headmaster. Unless there is anything else you'd like to tell me?"

"No, sir."

Severus stared at Kaleb for a few seconds. There was something else, something the boy was holding back. He doubted anyone else would have noticed the slight tightening around the boy's eyes when he lied, but Severus had spent years learning to notice these things. But Kaleb wasn't ready to share, and he had no choice but to accept the lie, for now. "Very well," he said as he stood and began to walk away.

"Wait, sir?" Kaleb called, stopping Severus mid-stride.

Severus turned back to the bed, waiting as Kaleb fidgeted. "Yes?" He prompted.

"It's just, well, you never told me your name…"


	7. Chapter 7

**Disclaimer: Not Mine.**

 **Chapter 7**

The sun was cresting the horizon by the time Severus made it back to Spinner's End. The lack of sleep did nothing to improve his temper, though there was little that could have made it worse. He stormed through the hidden door to his basement, passing by his private potions lab and slapping his palm against a section of blank wall. The wall shuddered and a nondescript door appeared, swinging open to admit the fuming man.

The torches lit themselves when Severus stepped into the room, firelight glinting off of the knives displayed on the wall. A silent _accio_ sent two of the knives flying toward their owner, who caught them easily. A flick of his wand activated three of the practice dummies along the far wall, and Severus began to dance.

A flick of his wand and one of the dummies burst into flame, automatically replaced by another. A thrown knife thumped into a hollow chest, a flash of steel severed a wooden arm, a slashed wand cut another off at the knees. Severus flowed through the room, lashing out with physical and magical attacks interchangeably, venting his frustration on his wooden opponents, rather than the two imbeciles he truly wanted to hex.

 _Sirius Black and Albus Dumbledore were idiotic, self-absorbed, arrogant, presumptuous fools._ Two more dummies exploded into flames. _They had barely known Potter for a fortnight, and they were already planning the boy's life!_ He rolled away from a hex and flung a cutting curse behind him. _No, that wasn't right. Dumbledore had been planning the boy's life for years, perhaps even before Lily was dead and buried._ A knife caught his robe, as he spun away, now fighting five against one.

 _Expecting the boy to move in with that mad dog, planning to simply slot him into the sixth year classes, they even expected the boy to sort into Gryffindor! It was ridiculous!_ A stinging hex caught him in the leg as he blasted two dummies against the wall. Severus was panting, both from anger and exertion, but his movements remained precise, dummies repairing themselves as he quickly as he cut them down. _Treating the boy like he was a toddler, invading his mind, drugging him, chaining him to a bed! Then expecting him to fall over in gratitude because they showed him magic and told him they_ loved _him! Stupid! Ignorant! Manipulative! Asinine!_

Eventually, he felt his anger subsiding, his limbs tiring. When his mind was once more clear and collected, he swept his wand around the room and the dummies fell silent. He collected his knives, placing them to the side to be checked and sharpened later, then sunk to the floor in the middle of the room. Legs crossed, eyes closed, Severus stepped into his mind, replaying the argument from a more rational viewpoint.

Yes, Black was an idiot. He was acting like a hyperactive Crup with a new toy. But he did love his godson, in his own twisted way, even is his attempts at bonding with the boy were horribly misguided. And Dumbledore, fool that he was, truly thought that the boy would flourish if surrounded by his peers, and felt the love of this new "family" would wash away the terrors of the boy's past. He had planned the boy's contribution to the war over a decade ago, and then watched those plans crumble to ash. Was it such a surprise that he would attempt to regain control now that the boy had been returned to him? And though Severus hated to admit it, he knew that Potter had a part to play in the war. Dumbledore would never allow him to go back to the Muggle world, and they wouldn't be able to hide him from the Dark Lord for long. He was a target, and a figurehead, and there was nothing he could do to change that.

He would have to talk to the boy, sooner than he had planned. He needed to know what Potter wanted to do if he was to have any hope of helping him. And he would need an ally, someone who could talk sense into Dumbledore, and more importantly, Black. That rabid mutt would never listen to any suggestion that came from the 'greasy git'.

There was, however, one thing Black had said during his screaming fit that required some thought.

 _Several Hours Earlier:_

 _Black slammed the door to the headmaster's office behind him, turning immediately to Severus, wand raised. "I want an explanation_ Snape _!" he yelled, spittle flying from his lips. "What the hell have you done to my godson?"_

" _I'm sure I have no idea what you're talking about," Severus replied cooly. And truthfully, he wasn't sure what had gotten Black into this much of a rage._

" _Let me spell it out for you Snivellus. You spend hours locked up with him yesterday, and no one seems to know what you were doing. Then you waltz into the infirmary and push right past that shield of his -"_

" _Yes, because leaving him to writhe on the floor was the better option."_

" _None of us could get through it! Not even Albus!"_

 _Severus turned to look at the headmaster, who dipped his chin in agreement._

" _He's right, my boy. That was a powerful display of accidental magic on Mr Potter's part. Sirius was blasted across the room when he tried to help the boy, and Poppy and I both received a rather large jolt as well."_

" _I'm afraid I have no explanation, Albus. I could feel the magic in the shield, but it offered no resistance when I stepped into it." Though that would explain the flair he'd seen, if Black had tried to break into the dome when he pinned the boy down. He fought a smirk as he pictured the insane wizard thrown across the room by his godson's magic._

" _What about the way you assaulted him!" Black sputtered._

 _Severus rolled his eyes. "I was merely keeping the boy from injuring himself further."_

" _And ordering him around like some house elf?" Black interrupted. "How are you going to explain that away?"_

" _Perhaps we should be discussing what set the boy off to begin with," Severus said, "and how you justify giving him a sleeping potion against his will."_

The conversation had gone downhill from there, starting with Black's plans for the boy's summer, and Dumbledore's plans for the upcoming school year. But he'd managed to avoid the question that was bothering him as much as Black. Why did Potter trust him? The shield was accidental magic, that was obvious. But that meant that the boy trusted him more than his godfather at a subconscious level. That Potter had come out of a nightmare with a man he'd only met once pinning him to the floor - _a man who'd never even told him his name,_ Severus thought exasperatedly - and was somehow calmed by this rather than panicked… The implications were troubling.

Severus had worried about this when he'd first confronted the boy. Potter had lost everything he'd known, and things were completely out of the boy's control. And rather than trying to take control of his own life, Severus had given him an alternative, someone who knew his past and could take control for him. Potter was trying to use Severus as a substitute for his dead Dom. The boy probably didn't even realise he was doing it, which was even worse.

Severus' first reaction was to distance himself from the boy. But he was, so far, the only person Potter seemed to trust. Betraying that could break the so-called Savior of the wizarding world. So, he needed to give Potter other people he could trust. He wouldn't encourage the boy, of course, but he would help him learn to stand on his own, support him from the sidelines for a time. Soon enough, Potter would realise that he didn't need the help of a bitter old Potions Master.


	8. Chapter 8

**Disclaimer: Not mine.**

 **Chapter 8**

Severus headed back to Hogwarts, for the third time in the last twenty-four hours. Honestly, he was going to have to buy more floo powder if this kept up. Potter was awake, sitting up in bed with a breakfast tray settled over his lap. He glanced at the fireplace, and his face lit up in a smile when he saw the potions master. Severus sighed. Yes, the boy was growing much too attached.

"Kaleb," Severus greeted with a nod. "I trust you are feeling better this morning?"

"Yes sir," Kaleb said, finishing off his last bite of toast.

"Good. Because we need to have that discussion I mentioned yesterday." Severus said, pulling a chair up to the boy's bedside. Potter's face fell into a wary frown. "I had hoped to allow you more time to think. However, circumstances are soon going to force your hand."

"You mean my godfather, don't you?" Potter asked softly, moving the now empty tray to the bedside table.

"In part," Severus agreed. "But also the headmaster, and the upcoming school year. Term starts in just over a month, but arrangements will need to be made for you well before that."

Severus watched as the boy visibly steeled himself, his expression changing from resignation to determination. "I want to learn, sir," he said. "I didn't, at first. I wanted to go back to my old life and forget that any of this happened. But I can't. That dark lord you told me about is going to come after me, no matter where I go. I will not spend my life running. And…" His voice became quieter, losing a bit of its surety, and his eyes fell to his lap. "Mac taught me some things. But when those men attacked us, I just stood there. I just stood there and watched as those monsters killed my best friend." Kaleb looked back at Severus, meeting his eyes, and Severus watched those green eyes fill with a fire he didn't expect from the boy. "I won't do that again. I want to learn. I want to learn how to defend myself, and the people I care about. I want to learn how to use my magic."

Severus stared into Kaleb's eyes for a long time. He wouldn't deny that he was surprised. He had expected to need to coax the boy into the wizarding world, show him some of what he could do with magic, convince him that he wouldn't be safe in the muggle world any longer. But Kaleb had come to these conclusions on his own.

He slowly leant back in his chair, breaking eye contact with the boy. "Well then," he said, "I suppose the only thing left to discuss is your living arrangements until the start of term. And determining what magical knowledge you already possess of course."

"I don't want to live with Sirius." The reply came in a rush. Severus did his best not to chuckle.

"Do you have any other suggestions?"

"Could I…" Kaleb paused, chewing on his bottom lip in an uncharacteristic show of nerves. "Could I stay with you?"

Severus let out a long sigh. "No, Kaleb. I'm afraid that's not an option."

"Why not?" The question was almost petulant.

Because it would be signing both our death warrants. Because you need to let go of this unnatural attachment. Because… "Kaleb, there are many things that you don't know yet, things that I cannot tell you."

"But -"

"I said no, Kaleb," Severus said firmly.

"Yes, sir."

The silence stretched between them, the tension almost palpable. Severus found himself almost wishing that he could explain, tell the boy _why_ staying with him would be tantamount to suicide. Anything to wipe that dejected look off Kaleb's face. He couldn't, of course. That knowledge was too dangerous, too sensitive…

"Kaleb -"

"What about here?" The question was so abrupt, it took Severus a moment to realise what the boy had asked.

"Here?"

"Yeah, here. What about staying here until term starts? I could explore the castle so I won't get lost when I'm trying to get to classes. And Sirius mentioned a library? I could study, try to learn some things so I'm not so far behind. And the headmaster said this is one of the safest places in the world, right?" Kaleb seemed to get more excited about the idea the longer he talked.

"That may be an acceptable solution," Severus replied. "We would have to ask the headmaster, of course. And explain it to Black. But I would consider that a plausible option."

Kaleb beamed at him, his face screaming that he trusted Severus to make this 'option' a certainty.

"I make no promises, Kaleb. But I will try." Kaleb nodded, but his smile didn't diminish. "In the meantime," Severus continued, "why don't you show me some of what Mac taught you?" He drew his blackthorn wand and flipped it around offering it to Kaleb handle first. "How about a levitation charm?"

With no further prompting, Kaleb grasped the wand, his smile growing even larger. They spent over an hour running through spells, some of which Kaleb knew, others he didn't, a few he was determined to learn as soon as he could. Occasionally Severus would stop him to correct a pronunciation or refine a wand movement, but mostly Severus just called out spells and Kaleb would either shake his head or nod and cast them perfectly. Mac must have been a proficient teacher.

They were interrupted by Poppy, who entered the hospital wing with a scowl and shooed Kaleb back to bed. Once the boy was settled back under his covers (after quite a bit of grumbling about how he felt fine), Poppy turned on Severus, admonishing him about overtaxing the boy. He responded with a glower, but left all the same, promising Kaleb that he would return soon.

The walk through the castle was blissfully quiet, and Severus found himself in an oddly pleasant mood by the time he reached his quarters. Kaleb had shown more backbone than he'd thought the boy capable of, he hadn't needed to coerce the boy into seeing reason, his idea about staying at the castle for the remainder of the summer was sound… Now if he could convince Minerva to talk to Albus and his pet dog…

Severus popped his head into the Floo, and found his good mood immediately dampened. Sitting in one of the comfortable armchairs in Minerva's living room was a plump, balding man with a thick moustache. His heavily calloused hands were clutched around a folded newspaper, and the scowl on his face was practically murderous.

"Snape," he said, his tone as harsh as his expressions.

"Malcolm," Severus replied civilly. Minerva's brother had never bothered to hide his dislike of the ex-Death Eater.

"Kill any Muggles lately?" Malcolm asked, flipping the paper around to flash the image of a muggle restaurant at the fireplace. Not just any muggle restaurant, of course. It appeared the Prophet had already run an article about last evening's raid. Merlin, had that only been yesterday? Severus flinched internally as Malcolm continued. "Fifty-seven people dead it says. 'Course, they're only muggles. Your lot don't really see them as people at all, do ya?"

"Malcolm, that's enough," a voice snapped from the back of the room. Minerva strode forward and snatched the paper from her brother's hands. "Out. If you haven't learned by now to be civil to my guests in my house…"

"Minnie! Just look at the paper! You know what he is!"

"I said out, Malcolm! Now!" Minerva said in her best teacher voice. With a bit more grumbling, Malcolm left the room and Minerva turned to the fireplace. "I'm sorry about that, Severus. You know how he is… Are you alright? It's not like you to call during the holidays."

"I am well enough," Severus replied. "But I'm afraid that I am calling for a favour. Would you mind coming through?"

"Of course. Just let me tell Malcolm I'm leaving. He's probably sulking in the kitchen… I'll be there in a few minutes."

Severus nodded and ended the connection, then called down to the kitchens for a tea service. The elves were thrilled to provide; they seemed to get bored over the summer months.

Minerva stepped into his sitting room just as the elves were leaving. "So what's this about, Severus?" Minerva asked as she fixed herself a cup of tea.

"It's about Potter," Severus replied.

"Honestly, Severus. The term hasn't even started yet. What could the boy possibly have done already?" Severus couldn't help smirking at the exasperation in her voice.

"Actually," he said, "it's Dumbledore's behaviour that is of concern."

"What?"

"Have you seen the boy since he was brought to the castle?"

"No…" Minerva said slowly. "Albus didn't want to overwhelm him with too many new faces."

"Have you talked to Albus about his plans for Potter? His living arrangements? His placement for the upcoming school year?"

"Placement? He can't possibly mean for the boy to come to Hogwarts! He's six years behind his peers!"

"I'm afraid that's exactly what he plans to do." Severus held up a hand to stall the tirade he could see building. "Potter does want to come to school. He wants to learn, and Hogwarts is probably the safest place for him. But I think we both agree that he would do poorly if placed in sixth year. He would do just as poorly placed with the first years."

Minerva scoffed. "Obviously. He needs tutors. The boy has been living as a Muggle all his life, he wouldn't know the first thing -"

"Not entirely true," Severus interrupted. "He does have some training. I was actually running him through many of the curriculum spells earlier today."

"How? Did Albus already take the boy for a wand?"

"No. I let him use mine. But that's beyond -"

"You let him use your wand?" The shock is Minerva's voice stopped Severus short. He _had_ let Potter use his wand, hadn't even thought much of it. But Minerva was right to be surprised. He _never_ willing gave up his wand, but he'd handed it to Potter without a second thought. In hindsight, it was a bit… unnerving.

"That is not of import," Severus said, filing the incident away to think on later. "The important thing is that the boy has had some training. He doesn't know much about the theory and classification behind spells, couldn't tell me the difference between a charm and a transfiguration even, but he knows a good deal of defensive and offensive spells, a list of household charms, some basic conjurations… Of course, he's never brewed a potion or looked at a star chart, but he's not a complete Muggle."

Minerva took another sip of her tea as she processed everything. "Who taught him?" She finally asked.

"A friend of his, who is now deceased."

"The poor boy…" Minerva said, thinking. "There is something that may work for him. It hasn't been done in years of course, but it would allow him to take classes with different year groups, and he would have more free time to learn at his own pace."

"What?" Severus asked, surprised that Minerva may have come up with a solution so quickly.

"Back when I was a student, Hogwarts had a thriving exchange program. Every year, a few students would be offered places at Beauxbatons, Ilvermorny, Castelobruxo, even Durmstrang and Uagadou on occasion. Usually the students were from sixth year so as to not interfere with exams, though there were a few from fifth and seventh. In return, students from the other schools would come to Hogwarts for the year. It was a great way to learn different magical theories, for the students to learn about different cultures… Of course, the program was discontinued with the rise of Grindelwald. But the way the exchange students were introduced to the school could be just what Mr Potter needs. He would need to take a placement exam in each subject, and he would have to be comfortable with quite a bit of self-study. And he would still need to be tutored in some subjects I'm sure…"

"Do you think Albus will agree?"

"Well, it's certainly better than his plan. Honestly, expecting the poor child to just fit in with the sixth years. He'd be lost before the first week was out." The sheer indignation in her voice made Severus chuckle. "What about his living arrangements?"

"Black is pushing for the boy to move in with him."

Minerva sputtered and coughed, choking on her last sip of tea. "Absolutely not," she snapped. "I know he has every right to claim guardianship, but that man can barely remember to feed himself! There is no way he should be responsible for a child!"

Severus chuckled again. "Once again, I'm glad to see we are in agreement. Potter suggested he stay here until term starts, so that he could acquaint himself with the castle and use the library."

"Well, that is a brilliant idea. Exchange students were given guest quarters, since there was no point in sorting them. That could work for Potter just as well. The boy was smart to suggest it."

"He was indeed," Severus said, a ghost of a smile on his lips.

"I must say, I'm surprised that you care so much, Severus. I almost expected you to hate the boy."

"He had a hard childhood," Severus replied. "He's not the pampered arse his father was. He is damaged, but he hasn't given up. After everything he's seen of our world, most of which was painfully unpleasant for him, he still wants to learn magic. Most boys his age would be hiding behind their mother's skirts after half of what he's been through, and I've only learned about a small part of his past. But he's not hiding, he's not running away."

"It almost sounds like you're fond of the boy, Severus."

Severus frowned. "Don't be ridiculous. I simply appreciate that the boy can see simple reason without having to be drug kicking and screaming to it. I'm sure he's just as insolent and impulsive as the rest of the dunderheads we teach."

Minerva hid a snicker behind her teacup. "I'll speak to Albus this afternoon. Will you still be in the castle?"

"I will be," Severus said. He could brew in the dungeons just as easily as he could at Spinner's End.

"Very well. I'll let you know how it goes. Since I'm here, I think I'll spend the day getting my class ready." With that, Minerva rose and headed for the chamber door. "And Severus? Get some rest. You haven't been taking care of yourself." Then Minerva slipped out the door before Severus could muster a response.

"Meddlesome woman," Severus muttered. But rather than heading to his lab, Severus found himself pulling off his robes and crawling into his bed for some, admittedly, much needed sleep.


	9. Chapter 9

**Disclaimer: Not Mine**

 **Chapter 9**

" _No! No! Please!" The pleading sobs were cut off as the woman began to scream. High and keening, the sound echoed off the marble floor of the sitting room. Severus closed his eyes, blocking out the sight of the woman thrashing in the centre of the room, and the circle of kneeling figures in black robes and white masks surrounding her. A circle he was a part of._

 _The scream faded, turning to a moan as the woman curled in on herself._

" _Severus," a smooth voice called out, and Severus lifted his head to look upon the Dark Lord. The man's face was much younger than it should have been. The dark hair and flawless pale skin should have made him attractive, but instead, he looked unnatural. His skin almost wax-like, too perfect. His face too young for the power he could wield. And the eyes… Blood red eyes that seemed to glow…_

" _Yes, my Lord?" His voice was cold and sure, nothing to hint at the unease he felt._

" _I think we've learned all we need to from Mrs Wellman. Would you care to do the honours?"_

" _Of course, my Lord," Severus said, rising to his feet._

" _Oh, use that spell of yours that I like so much. The killing curse is just too clean for this one."_

 _The childlike glee in the Dark Lord's voice almost made Severus shudder. Instead, he gave a small bow to his Lord and pointed his wand at the trembling creature in front of him._

"Sectumsempra _," he hissed, watching the woman's skin split. The cuts looked random, but when a spray of blood splattered against the front of his robes, he knew he'd cut the woman's jugular. He stood impassively, refusing to show his disgust as each beat of her heart further soaked his robes. Through it all, the woman never moved, never tried to stop the flow of blood from her neck and back. It didn't take long for the wounds to slow, a last gurgled breath escaping her lips as her heart stuttered to a halt..._

Severus jerked awake, panting as he stifled the scream on his lips. His shirt was wet, the cloth sticking to his skin, and he heard several buttons pop as he wrestled it off. He knew it was soaked with sweat, not blood, but the dream was vivid enough that the distinction made no difference.

Once he had flung the offending article of clothing across the room, Severus sat on the edge of his bed, his face buried in his hands as he worked to slow his breathing. He shivered as the dungeon air chilled his sweat slicked skin. A glance at his bedside clock showed that he'd only managed two hours of sleep. Much less than he needed, but Severus knew that sleep would not find him again today. He needed a distraction, and there was a list of potions in his lab that he was required to brew. Losing himself in his work, the softly bubbling cauldrons and spiralling steam, could quiet his mind more efficiently than a phial of Dreamless Sleep. There was comfort in the routine, the precision and repetition.

Several hours later, Severus was labouring over four cauldrons at once. He had just finished decanting a vat of pepper-up when his alarm sounded, informing him of a visitor at his door. He cast a quick stasis charm on the cauldron of bruise balm and blood replenisher, left the calming draught to simmer, and opened his door to a grinning Minerva.

"I take it your conversation with the headmaster went well?" He asked as she pushed into his quarters.

"I must say that it did. Very well in fact," she said smugly. "Albus had his objections, of course, and Sirius threw a right fit. But in the end, they agreed that keeping Mr Potter at the castle was the right thing to do."

Severus couldn't stop the smirk that turned up the corner of his mouth. He had been right to go to Minerva. She could be a bloody menace when she wanted to be, but that meant that even Dumbledore thought twice about getting on her bad side.

"Has the headmaster informed Potter of his decision?" He asked.

"Actually, Albus left that to me. And I thought you might wish to join me."

Severus nodded as he summoned a piece of parchment and a quill. "Do you know which quarters are to be his?" He asked distractedly as he began to write.

"No, Albus said that a house elf would find me when they had a room cleaned."

"Binky," Severus called and an older house elf appeared with a pop.

"Yes Master Snape, sir?" the elf squeaked.

"Binky, I've been informed that the headmaster has left the elves in charge of securing and preparing living quarters for Mr Potter, correct?"

"Yes Master Snape, sir! We has been looking all over trying to find the biggest bestest rooms for Mr Harry Potter sir!"

"Might I make a suggestion?" Severus asked, waiting for the elf to nod before continuing. "There is a suite of rooms on the third floor, west wing, that I think would suit Mr Potter nicely. Would you be willing to take a look? I don't know if they're the largest rooms available, but I do believe they are the best rooms to fit his purpose."

Binky bobbed his head several times before speaking. "Binky knows of the rooms, Master Snape sir. Binky will go tell the other elves!"

"Thank you, Binky," Severus said, still scribbling away on his parchment as the elf disappeared. "Mipsy," he called once the first elf was gone. Another elf appeared silently in his quarters, this one smaller and younger than the first. Her uniform looked like a standard Hogwarts tea towel to the untrained eye, but Severus could pick out the arrowheads faintly embroidered on the bottom hem, and the words ' _In vigila sic vinces_ ' in small stitches above the Hogwarts motto. 'In watchfulness, you shall conquer', the Prince family motto.

Mipsy stood quietly while Severus finished his list. He gave his elf a small approving smile before kneeling in front of her.

"Mipsy, I need you to fetch these books and deliver them to Mr Potter's new rooms," he said softly, passing her the piece of parchment. He watched his elf scan the list, saw her ears stiffen slightly in surprise; the books themselves would have been surprising enough, but there was much more to the list than that, all written in his cramped shorthand. She looked like she was about to ask a question, but her eyes flicked to Minerva, and she simply nodded instead.

"Yes, Master Snape, sir," she said before disappearing as quietly as she had arrived.

Severus stood and turned to Minerva, only to see the woman trying to hide a snicker. He raised an eyebrow in question, and her composure broke. She devolved into a fit of giggles as Severus looked on in annoyance.

"Please inform me as to what brought on this display of… insanity… so that I may avoid it in the future."

"Oh, Severus," Minerva choked out. "If you were half as nice to the first years as you are to the _house elves_ I wouldn't have half as many crying students to comfort."

"And I would have twice as many exploding cauldrons, and Poppy twice as many patients," Severus growled. "Honestly, are you quite finished? I would still like to see to Mr Potter today."

Minerva's chuckled a few moments more before pulling herself together. "I'm being completely serious, Severus," she said.

"I appreciate competency," he replied, motioning her toward his door. "The house elves are efficient, hard working, and have a fine attention to detail." Especially Mipsy. His favourite of the three Prince family elves, she had played the roles of spy, messenger, mule, and transportation, for the last several years especially. And she had saved his life on two separate occasions. "The average first year has none of those traits. They are lazy, careless, pretentious little dunderheads."

"They're really not as bad as all that…"

"Minerva," Severus sighed, "how many times have we been over this? If a student is mucking about in your class, you end up with a water goblet with a tail, or a tortoise with a bejewelled shell. I end up with students in the hospital wing. I don't have the luxury of playing nice."

"So you say, Severus," Minerva replied, and they lapsed into companionable silence for the rest of the walk to the infirmary.

They stepped through the doors to find Potter dressed and out of bed, staring out the windows that overlooked Hogwarts grounds.

"Mr Potter," Minerva called, but whatever she had been about to say was cut off with a gasp as Potter turned to face them. Her hand flew to her mouth, and Severus swore that he saw tears gather in her eyes. "I'm sorry," she stuttered, her voice tight with emotion. "You just look so much like your father…"

Severus froze, surprised by Minerva's statement. The younger Potter didn't look a thing like _James_ Potter… He took a long look at the boy, eyeing him critically. Is hair was long and tied back, not the messy mop his father had sported. His eyes were his mother's piercing green, though they were missing the easy happiness Lily's eyes had always held. He was tall and lean, like his father, but so were many boys his age. And he didn't have his father's arrogant swagger, that self-confidence that comes from a life of privilege and entitlement. No, he didn't look like his father at all.

"Yeah," Potter replied with a small smile and a duck of his head. "Black, my godfather, said the same thing."

 _Well_ , Severus thought, _people will see what they want to._

Severus cleared his throat and watched as Minerva shook herself from her thoughts.

"Right, of course. Mr Potter, would you care to sit?" She asked, motioning toward a pair of chairs that had been returned to their spots by the fireplace. She quickly conjured a third chair, and Severus was impressed that the boy only gave a small flinch when she drew her wand.

"My name is Professor Minerva McGonagall," she continued once they were all seated. "I am the Transfiguration Professor here at Hogwarts, and well as the Deputy Headmistress. As such, Professor Snape brought your request to my attention, in the hopes that I would be able to assist you with your accommodations for the remainder of the summer, as well as the coming school year."

"You mean about staying here for the rest of the summer?" Potter asked carefully.

"Exactly. And I'm happy to say that it has been arranged. The house elves are readying your new rooms as we speak."

A smile spread across Potter's face as he looked from Minerva to Severus. "Thank you," he said sincerely.

"It was my pleasure, Mr Potter. Now, as for next school year. I had proposed a program of slow advancement through the years to get you caught up, however, the Headmaster is quite insistent that you attend classes with your year mates." Severus began to scowl, wondering why Minerva hadn't brought this up earlier, but she cut him off before he could speak. "Severus, don't give me that look. We came to a compromise that I think will work." She turned back to Potter as she continued.

"You will be working through the curriculum using the books that we publish for students who choose to be home-schooled. You will be able to work through them at your own pace, and may use the class hours to discuss the material with your professors. You will be required to turn in all assignments to the relevant professors, and I encourage you to take advantage of their office hours if you have any issues that may be disruptive to the class. Also, you will be assigned several tutors from the student body, though obviously we need to make sure said students are willing to take on the extra responsibility. Does this sound acceptable?"

Severus saw Potter's eyes dart to him, and he gave a small nod. It was a reasonable plan, and a good compromise.

"Yes Ma'am," Potter replied. "Will I be able to start on those books before term starts?"

"Of course, though we will require that you be supervised for the practical portions. I will be remaining in the castle for most of the remainder of the summer, and Professor Flitwick, our Charms Professor, should be returning at the beginning of August, so there shouldn't be any issues finding time for you to practice."

"I will be remaining here as well," Severus cut in, ignoring Minerva's puzzled smile.

"Yes, well, as you can see, you won't be lacking in assistance," Minerva murmured. "Madam Pomfrey has told me that you can move into your new quarters today, if you wish. I thought perhaps a tour of the castle first?"

Potter's face broke into a wide smile as he nodded. The stood and headed out of the infirmary, and Severus watched as the boy seemed to let out a sigh of relief at this small freedom.

The tour went surprisingly well, and Severus had to admit to an amount of amusement at Potter's reactions. He watched as Potter gasped at his first sight of the Great Hall, the look of almost childish wonder seeming odd on the boy's face. The moving staircases were a point of puzzlement, and he could see the boy attempting to map alternate routes in his head. They almost lost Kaleb to the library; the sheer number of books had the boy enthralled the moment they stepped through the doors. Only the reassurance that he could spend as much time there as he wished, _later_ , was able to pull him from the wing.

They were just heading away from the Owlery when several things happened in quick succession. Binky popped into the corridor in front of them, and Kaleb jumped a foot in the air. His eyes, wide as saucers, began darting in every direction, and Severus could see the panic attack working its way through the boy's mind. Binky saw the expression on Kaleb's face and started squeaking out apologies, while Kaleb gaped at the strange creature. Then Minerva reached out a hand and placed in on Kaleb's shoulder.

Kaleb spun away from the touch and bolted back down the corridor. Severus swore under his breath, racing after the boy, and he could hear Minerva not far behind him. Several turns and four staircases later, he spotted the hem of a black robe ducking into an old classroom, and Severus slowed his pace. Minerva caught up to him, panting heavily from exertion.

"What…" she gasped out. "What just happened."

"Panic attack," Severus answered curtly. "And he doesn't like to be touched."

"I'll go talk to him, apologise. I didn't know-"

"No. I've got him. I… I've got him," Severus muttered as he stepped into the classroom.

Kaleb was huddled in the corner, still breathing erratically. His knees were pulled up to his chest, his face buried in his hands.

"Kaleb," Severus called softly as he approached the boy. "I need you to look at me."

Slowly, Kaleb lifted his head, wide eyes trailing up black robes until they settled on Severus' face.

"Good boy," he whispered as he knelt in front of Kaleb. "Breathe Kaleb, breathe. It's alright. No one here is going to hurt you. You know that. You're safe."

Kaleb nodded slowly as he took a few deep breaths.

"Better?" Severus asked as the tension left Kaleb's muscles. Kaleb nodded again. "Verbal response, please."

"Yes, sir. I'm ok, I think," Kaleb replied, voice barely above a whisper. "What was that thing?"

"That was a house elf. They work for the school, cooking, cleaning, the like. Do you think you would like to meet one, now that it won't be such a shock?"

Kaleb stretched his legs out against the floor as he thought. "Yes, sir," he finally answered, as he seemed to brace himself.

"Mipsy," Severus called, and his little elf appeared. He saw Kaleb stiffen again, then watched the boy take another deep breath. "Mipsy, this is Kaleb. He's never met a house elf before."

Mipsy looked Kaleb over and glanced back at Severus. At his nod, Mipsy took a step toward Kaleb and gave a deep bow. "Binky is very sorry that he startled you, Master Kaleb," she squeaked. "Binky had come to tell you that your rooms are ready. Would you like Mipsy to take you to them now?"

Kaleb stared at Mipsy for a while, then turned back to Severus. "Do they always bow like that," he asked.

"Usually," Severus replied.

"You don't have to, you know," Kaleb said to the elf. "Bow and such, I mean. But I really would like to see my rooms, if that's ok."

Mipsy straightened up and smiled softly at the boy. "Mipsy is happy to serve Master Kaleb." She stepped back as Severus and Kaleb stood, then led the way out of the classroom and to a puzzled looking Minerva.

Kaleb stopped when he saw Minerva waiting outside the door. "I…" He ducked his head, the toe of his worn trainer scuffing against the flagstone. "I'm really sorry for my behaviour," he finished.

"That's quite all right Mr Potter," Minerva said kindly. "I'm sorry if my actions frightened you, and I'm glad to see that you're all right."

Kaleb looked up and Severus gave him an approving nod and a small smile.

"Mipsy said my rooms are ready," he said.

"Well, why don't we go and have a look?" Minerva smiled warmly at Kaleb. "Lead the way, Mipsy," she said, motioning to the elf. Severus fell into step beside Minerva, and tried his best to ignore the questioning looks she was shooting his way.


End file.
